Stolen Youth
by GreenEyedWeasley
Summary: He whipped his head back around to see a wand pointed at his chest, directly at his heart. The last thing he saw was crazed eyes and a flash of green light hurtling towards him. The last thought that crossed his mind was "I hope Dennis will be alright."


**Stolen Youth**

He turned around, making a complete three hundred sixty degree turn. He could only see debris and flashes of green and red every which way he turned. He couldn't hear anything – there was too much blood and adrenaline coursing through him, drowning everything else out.

He could see Hermione Granger a few yards away, fighting some unknown Death Eater. As she took him down with a spectacular silent curse, he was struck with how impressive she looked in that moment and for a split second, he wished he had his camera to capture her on film.

His mind was brought back to the battle as a _sectumsempra_ curse grazed his arm. His eyes flew to the man who had sent the curse his way. He silently thanked the gods that he had sent Dennis away. True they were both underage, but he was closer to being of age and he had also been a part of Dumbledore's Army.

He brought his opponent down with a silent stunning spell and took off at a sprint. He didn't know where he was running to or why he was running, he just knew that he had to move, had to do something more.

He was only a meter or two away from the Entrance Hall doors. He forced his legs to propel forward faster, catching his foot on a fallen piece of wall. He went skidding across the floor, hitting his chin but not really feeling anything. He started to push himself up when a voice stopped him cold.

"Well, well, well. This isn't a place for itty-bitty babies, now is it?" A high-pitched, cackling voice said from behind him. He stood up and slowly turned around. A mess of curly black hair and crazed eyes met his sight. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin up, refusing to show this horrible woman that he was not afraid. All that earned him was a demented, bitter laugh.

"Trying to be brave, little lion?" She mocked as they started to circle each other. "Trying to prove to everyone that a little Gryffindor that no one pays attention to can be as brave as the Golden Trio?" She spat the last two words out at him.

"Did your mummy ever tell you what happened to you dear old daddy?" Anger welled up inside of him. Of course he knew; his father had been tortured and killed by this woman and her husband when he refused to join the Death Eaters one too many times. "I bet she never told you how much he screamed, how he began to beg for death before we barely even got started." She laughed maliciously.

"Lies!" He roared. "Those are all lies! My father was a brave man, brave enough not to hide behind a crazed lunatic and a mask for most of his life." He could see a dangerous gleam in her eyes, but he couldn't stop now. "My father was a great man and a greater person than you could ever dream of being, not because of the power he had that you could only ever dream of having, but because he loved and was loved, something that you will never have."

He was visibly shaking from his rant, but he could overlook the fact that he was showing her weakness because he could see that he was getting to her. Her nostrils flared and he could tell that she was internally seething.

"How dare you speak to me that way! When I'm done with you, you'll be wishing for death quicker than you dear father."

"We'll see about that." He raised his wand and pointed it at her chest. "_Petrificus_ –" He stopped mid-curse as he heard someone screaming his name from the stairs off to the side of Entrance Hall. He quickly turned his head around to see Hermione Granger running full speed towards him, eyes wide and mouth open, but he couldn't hear anything that she was saying – too much blood and adrenaline was coursing through him, drowning out every sound.

He whipped his head back around to see a wand pointed at his chest, directly at his heart. The last thing he saw was crazed eyes and a flash of green light hurtling towards him. The last thought that crossed his mind was _I hope Dennis will be alright_.

Hours later, long after the battle had ended, Hermione Granger walked into the Entrance Hall. She walked over to the line of bodies that littered the foyer, looking for a specific blonde boy. She spotted him not too far away from Fred's body.

She knelt down next to him, looking into the blank stare of the boy who had always been around but the same one that she had never taken the chance to get to know. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she stared at the boy who had his youth stolen from him before he even had a chance to become a man. She sucked in a rugged breath and closed his eyelids, so she wouldn't have to look at his soulless eyes. She preferred to remember him as he had been in life – happy, vibrant, and slightly annoying. She picked herself off the ground and moved back towards the Great Hall, but before she went in, she turned around to take one last look at him, and realized she wouldn't have wanted to remember Colin Creevey any other way.


End file.
